In Mary's Arms
The angel – Gabriel – he told me You’d be coming. Told me not to worry, that I had somehow found favor with God; that God was giving You to me.
A Gift, though for most of these nine months I think I might be the only one who sees You as that. Joseph has married me still and believes – I’m so grateful God told him too. He knows You’re a Gift.
At first I thought You’d be like any other child, but special, maybe? since I’d never known a man and didn’t see how I could be pregnant. But he told me You were from the Holy Spirit, and therefore You would be holy.
It took me a minute to catch up with what he’d said after that. Holy. The babe inside me, holy? How could this be? It humbles me.
How do I nurture a holy child? Discipline a holy child?
Oh Little One, You’ll teach me more than I’ll ever teach You.
Staring into Your eyes, sweet boy, You’re the most precious of precious babes. I’ve thought of so many things to share with You, when we get back home. For now we’ll just take each other in. I want every minute I have with You, Little One.
Those shepherds just leaving, they came to see You. Did You know who they were? I wonder what goes on in that tiny head of Yours… how much You already know. The men watched You in awe, having been told by angels that You had arrived.
Oh Little One, what have I been swept into? That the world would know You, my son, a king — the King from Heaven. God’s Son —
You aren’t mine, Little One. I thought I’d have that bond every mother has with her child, knowing I’m the one to keep You going and sustain You, nurture and teach You; that bond that’s indescribable and automatically there. It came, Sweetheart, but it’s different. I’m not Your end-all.
I’ll be here to wipe Your tears and carry You; I’ll hold Your hands as You learn to walk; I’ll teach You everything I know. But You don’t belong to me, and I wonder how much You really need me. You’re the Son of the all-powerful God.
What a gift. I suppose every child is a gift from God — surely, yes; absolutely. But You… You’re straight from God Himself, with no man involved. I don’t understand, my Dear, but I believe.
Your faith — is it greater than mine already? I don’t have much as it is. What things will I learn from You, Little One? You wrinkle Your nose and stretch those hands and I can only hold You close in amazement. God come to Earth, here in my arms.
I can’t imagine where Your life will take You, Little One. You’ll learn woodworking with Joseph, and I’m sure You’ll learn all that You can from the priests — unless You’re the one teaching them?
You’ll be a king, on the throne of David; You’re the Holy One, the Son of God. I thank God for His mercy toward me, though I’m at a loss for how to handle all of this. How best to handle You, Sweetheart.
Come closer, Little One. Let’s go to bed now and remember today. I have a feeling we’ll have to go forward slowly, one day at a time.
I love You, Little One.
I love You, Jesus.
Written by Amy Parsons.